


Yet Another Knight Tale

by cathrheas



Series: Commissions [17]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Romantic Fluff, Trans!Bernadetta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:00:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,377
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24125533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathrheas/pseuds/cathrheas
Summary: It was a controversial opinion to hold in the already-small storytelling community of Garreg Mach, but Bernadetta wasn’t a fan of knight tales. She’d read them (write them, even) on occasion, but it was by far not her favorite genre. If she was being honest, the things she read were supposed to be a reflection of her, a mediocre combination of the things that she wanted and the things she already had. Dashing knights fit into neither of those things.Until Bernadetta met Leonie.
Relationships: Leonie Pinelli/Bernadetta von Varley
Series: Commissions [17]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1753813
Comments: 3
Kudos: 43





	Yet Another Knight Tale

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Nexidava](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nexidava/gifts).



> Another commission for Nexidava! Always so kind and always giving me fun stuff to write :) Feel free to check out [my Twitter](https://twitter.com/cathrheas)!

It was a controversial opinion to hold in the already-small storytelling community of Garreg Mach, but Bernadetta wasn’t a fan of knight tales. She’d read them (write them, even) on occasion, but it was by far not her favorite genre. If she was being honest, the things she read were supposed to be a reflection of her, a mediocre combination of the things that she wanted and the things she already had. Dashing knights fit into neither of those things.

Until Bernadetta met Leonie.

Bernadetta thought of her as inspiration, at first, and it seemed to manifest that way. Bernadetta suddenly daydreamed of knights, of strength and courage and the judgemental swing of a lance. Not her typical romantic drivel, or a neat little morality tale, but the idea of a figure like that—someone heroic who strived to be their best—caught her attention.

_ Fiery orange hair. Determined eyes. Sweater flowing in the wind after another triumph... _

Really, it was only inspiration at first. In fact, Bernadetta had never spoken a word to Leonie when the fantasies first started. They weren’t even in the same house when they met, so Bernadetta only saw her by chance. Leonie was friendly, perhaps a bit  _ too _ friendly, and Bernadetta was petrified from the very beginning when Leonie approached her in the library.

Bernadetta had been tasked with sorting a donation of books the monastery had received. It was a simple task for normal people, but Bernie was far from normal. The first problem presented itself as soon as the task was set in front of her: the boxes of books were far too heavy. They were set in the middle of the room, quite a ways away from the bookshelves. She couldn’t push them, she couldn’t lift them...

“Excuse me? Do you need help?”

An unfamiliar voice rang out, and Bernadetta turned around. Leonie stood with her hands on her hips, her fingers drumming her sides. She looked a bit impatient, but she was upright, standing and speaking with a gut that Bernadetta would never have.

That pitying, slightly annoyed tone was one that Bernadetta had heard many times before. It meant that she was looking helpless, again. The eternal debate began. What was more important: not being bothered or getting the task done efficiently? Because of her dependence on others, she didn’t have the liberty of choosing both.

Thankfully, she didn’t have to choose. Leonie chose for her.

“Oh, is that a book shipment? I’ve helped with these before,” Leonie said, stepping forward. “The trick is to take the books out of the crates first, since they’re a little heavy to move.” Bernadetta stood in shock, watching Leonie lift books out of the crate in stacks, placing it on a nearby table. “Once you have enough out, you can just shove the stack of crates around.”

“O-okay.”

“They shouldn’t have made you do this, though. You’re a bit on the scrawny side, and this is still quite a bit of heavy lifting.”

“I know. Sorry...”

Leonie stopped, books in her hand. “Sorry? For what?”

_ I don’t know...I just didn’t really know what else to say. _ “For wasting your time, I guess?”

“It’s fine. You needed some help, right? And I’m not doing much else, so there’s no reason for me to stand around and let you struggle. I’m Leonie, by the way. You’re Bernadetta, right? From Professor Manuela’s class?”

Even as she spoke, Leonie kept sorting books. Bernadetta watched the muscles in her forearms flex as she lifted the boxes with ease, an easy smile on her face as she did so. Bernadetta couldn’t think about how amazing it was that Leonie just slipped into a conversation. She couldn’t think about how strange it was that Leonie knew her name, that her name was worth remembering at all. She only thought about Leonie, strong and swift, gripping a lance in her hands.

* * *

So, Bernadetta learned to like knight stories.

Leonie was an easy, friendly figure for her to project to. The knight in her stories always remained nameless, but anyone with a brain could tell who it was. Bernadetta knew it was strange, to put someone she was just getting to know into her stories, but she figured it was harmless—she wasn’t saying anything bad. If anything, it was a compliment. The knight in her stories travelled the land, looking for people in trouble and helping without a second thought. She was sensible, strong, borderline competitive, a tad arrogant, but always willing to learn.

Bernadetta hadn’t gotten any more comfortable with approaching people on her own, but Leonie picked up the slack. It was easier to get a feel for how to write Leonie when they started seeing each other more, and Leonie sought her out pretty often. Whenever they were both free, and whenever Bernadetta felt like leaving her room or letting someone in, Leonie would be over. Leonie often found tasks to help her out with, since Bernadetta was just generally bad at getting things done, but every now and again, Bernadetta found something to help Leonie out with, too. Sewing was all that Bernadetta was good at, really, so she patched up Leonie’s clothes every now and then, leaving cute embroideries when Leonie finally let her.

Again, inspiration struck her...a bit differently than she expected.

Leonie would leave, and then Bernadetta would sit down to write. As the days went on, though, she thought about developing her stories a little more. She wasn’t one for action, she never was. Instead, she typically spent her days writing romance. Besides, her knight was confident, and gallant, and undoubtedly attractive—why wouldn’t she have a significant other? 

Bernadetta kept writing, letting the story flow as it did. One night, the knight returned home—a scene never written before. Bernadetta couldn’t put her pen down, then, describing in detail the knight’s triumphant return to her lover. A frail, timid girl, but a loving one nonetheless, who always held the knight in a tight embrace and patched up her clothing.

By the time the scene was finished, Bernadetta’s cheeks were hot, and she was clenching her quill with a death grip. She always had vivid daydreams, but the scene of Leonie wrapping her up in a hug and helping her with dinner (even though both of them were awful cooks) and watching Bernadetta lovingly as Bernadetta sewed her shirt sleeves back to neatness—

“Oh, no,” Bernadetta whispered. “This...this is so bad.”

* * *

It had gone beyond the point of inspiration, and far beyond the point of only being written ink. Bernadetta tried to attribute her feelings to the story, but the more she saw Leonie, the more it became impossible to see it that way. The feelings she had were far from fictional, and they only felt more real every time Leonie looked her in the eyes. She wanted her stories to be  _ real. _ The vague visions of storybook homecomings started to cement themselves in Bernadetta’s brain. It was getting harder and harder not to hug Leonie every time they spoke. Perhaps distance would solve the problem, Bernadetta thought. Her obsession would surely disappear if she removed Leonie from the equation, right?

She was wrong again. If anything, not seeing Leonie made the feelings more intense. She wanted nothing more than to see Leonie again. The feeling of longing made her imagine being Leonie’s beloved maiden, waiting for Leonie to return...even with Leonie sitting in her room, feet away, she couldn’t help fantasizing about it. As Leonie stared at her homework and distracted herself with idle conversation, Bernadetta sat at her desk, penning stories about her fictional love life. She was in the middle of a kiss scene—the most embarrassing to write, but the most fulfilling.

“Bernadetta? Do you need some help?”

Bernadetta tensed, her knee gently bumping the bottom of her desk as she circled into herself. “What?”

“With your homework? I’m really not going to be much help, but I can try. You look confused.”

Leonie was almost honest to a fault.  _ But a courageous knight like her can’t help being bold, right? _ “Not confused, just...thinking about how I can word this.”

Well, she wasn’t lying. It was getting harder to think about what she wanted to write when Leonie was right there—not only was the embarrassment kicking in, but Leonie’s presence made her heart race too fast for her to think properly. Worse, it was definitely something Leonie could help her with...probably not in the way she was expecting, though.

“I can help!”  _ Wait, no. You’re not supposed to say that! _ “Read it out to me.”

“Um—w-well, it’s sort of embarrassing to read aloud, so—”

“Whatever...I’ll just read it, jeez.” 

“Leonie...!”

Powerless, Bernadetta watched as Leonie leaned over her, hand planted on her desk. Bernadetta’s mind couldn’t decide what to focus on: Leonie’s breath tickling her scalp? The curvature of the muscles on her arms? The fact that Leonie was reading the cozy, sappy romantic fiction she’d written about them? It was impossible for her to run with Leonie being so close to her, so she had no other option but to sit there and watch her entire life fall apart.

Leonie finally made a noise, a little “hmph” that was a touch better than indifferent. “This is pretty interesting. I know Manuela is a little weird, but I didn’t think she was making you guys do stuff like this...”

Bernadetta couldn’t believe it. Leonie had just  _ handed _ her a lifeline, a solution to the problem she’d made for herself. Whether she was feigning ignorance or she genuinely didn’t see the allusion the story was making, Bernadetta didn’t know, but it would have been so  _ easy _ to just brush it off and move on.  _ Yeah, it’s totally weird, right?! What kind of homework do you have? _

It would have been so easy, but...Leonie was leaning over her, still, so she couldn’t think. She was just like the knight in the stories—so sweet and so earnest that maybe she missed a few cues in the mess of her own honesty. What if, just like in the story, Bernadetta was her guiding light? A gentle voice that expressed its love, a voice that had a sober, romantic lilt to it, coming from Bernadetta’s lips, was something that seemed impossible outside of a storybook page.

And yet, Bernadetta spoke anyway. “This isn’t for class, actually...”

“Oh, it’s for fun, then? That’s pretty neat. Either way, you’re a good writer. The knight character is really cool!”  _ She has to be teasing me. She’s messing with me. _ “She’s basically the perfect knight, in my opinion.”

“Leonie,” Bernadetta said, with an urgency she never thought her voice could attain. “I think...you’re the perfect knight.”

“Really? That’s sweet of you, Bernadetta.” Leonie pulled her arm back from Bernadetta’s desk, and the sweet closeness between them was gone—but only for a moment. Leonie put her hand on Bernadetta’s shoulder instead, and Bernadetta felt like it was only right to look up at Leonie. She was smiling, almost too calmly.  _ She still doesn’t get it, does she? _ “I’m definitely gonna be up there with the greats, like all the knights they write books about, but I’m not quite there yet.”

“No, Leonie,” Bernadetta insisted. She’d already thrown herself into a hole, she thought; why not keep digging until she struck gold? “I th-think you’re already the perfect knight, just like in my stories. And I want to be like the woman in the story, okay? The maiden. Someone who’s just there for you when you need it, who’s always thinking about you and waiting for you. Because I really, really like you, and...”

Bernadetta lost her steam, her voice dwindling into nothing. The regret set in much too quick for her liking. She was praying to herself, hoping that Leonie had somehow misinterpreted her words again. But looking at Leonie’s face, the subtle part in her lips and the raise of her eyebrows, told Bernadetta that there was no escaping from this one. 

“I get it,” Leonie said. Then, she smiled and repeated herself: “I get it, Bernadetta.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry? You didn’t do anything wrong. Really, Bernadetta, I’m happy. I’m happy that you think I’m a good knight, and I’m happy that you wrote all this stuff about me—about us.”

“Us”? Goddess, that word had never sounded more beautiful. “Y-you do? That’s a relief. I know it’s stupid, but, I’ve w-written a lot, so if you ever want to read more, just ask Bernie!”

“Well, I could, but why would I do that when you’re right here?”

Bernadetta suddenly became very aware of the hand on her shoulder. Yes, Leonie was touching her, standing right in front of her and saying all of the things Bernadetta had  _ dreamed _ she would say, and the smile on her face seemed to be nothing short of suggestive. “What do you mean?”

As if Bernadetta didn’t know what she meant. She had to make sure she wasn’t being tricked—there was no way Leonie would ever come onto her in real life, right? No matter how nice it would be. “You don’t have to write stories about us, Bernadetta. I mean, you can if you want, but what’s the point when we can do all that stuff in real life? You want to be romanced by a strong knight, right? I can do that right now.”

“Wh—romanced?! No, it isn’t—I mean, it is, but—”

“Jeez, Bernadetta. Is the maiden in your story this shy, too? I guess she is, since she’s supposed to be you. That means I have to be the bold knight who reassures her, and takes care of her. Don’t worry, I can do that!”

Bernadetta’s vision of the room tilted; Leonie had scooped her out of her desk chair and straight into a princess carry, looking down at her with an expectant smile. Bernadetta first felt the urge to panic, knowing that her feet weren’t touching the floor, but feeling Leonie’s hands on her instantly soothed her. “This is...nice.”

“There’s still more. Let’s say the knight comes home after a long, long battle...she scoops her maiden into her arms, and then carries her to the bed.” Leonie paused, a brief moment of hesitation—uncharacteristic of her, Bernadetta thought. “If the maiden so desires.”

“Yeah, she...she missed you a lot, so she wants all of your attention.”

“Well, she’s got it.” The walk to Bernadetta’s bed was a lot less dramatic when it was only a few feet away from her desk, but it felt monumental all the same when Leonie laid her down. “I’m—I mean, the knight is so excited, she can’t help herself. All she wants is to kiss her maiden again, so slow and sweet that it’s like the first time all over again.”

Her hands on either side of Bernadetta’s head, Leonie lowered herself to give Bernadetta a kiss on the lips. She was rather chaste at first, but when Bernadetta made a small noise of content, she went further.  _ What a nice time to do research for a kiss scene, _ Bernadetta thought, but Leonie was so warm, and her brain was going fuzzy. She wanted to remember every bit of it, wanted to know exactly what it felt like when Leonie’s tongue first pushed past her lips, but she doubted she would be able to.

Instead of committing it to memory, Bernadetta decided to enjoy the moment, sinking into her mattress. When Leonie pulled away, Bernadetta opened her eyes as if to wake from a dream. “I think the maiden wants the knight t-to undress her.”

“The knight can’t wait to see. She knows her maiden is gorgeous, no matter what anybody else says.”

Leonie said that as she pulled Bernadetta’s hoodie over her head, took off her shirt, and pulled her skirt off. Bernadetta kept repeating those words in her head—it was the only way she’d be able to keep it together.  _ Gorgeous, no matter what anybody else says. _ Bernadetta felt even more comforted when Leonie began to undress herself, exposing the smooth, muscled plains of her stomach and legs until she was down to just her lingerie.

Bernadetta couldn’t help breaking character when Leonie touched her through her panties. Without thinking, she moaned, “Leonie, please...”

“I wonder how long the maiden has been waiting for this.” Leonie eased Bernadetta’s panties down her shaking legs, tossing them to the floor. Next came Bernadetta’s bra, and Leonie cupped her breasts. The tiny calluses on her fingers brought a strange sensation to Bernadetta’s nipples, but it was pleasant, something that Bernadetta could rock into. “Bernadetta, how long have you been waiting?”

Her attraction to Leonie had come to her rather quickly, but it felt like an eternity that she’d been longing for Leonie to touch her. It seemed like they were both working past the idea of being in a story. It was definitely real. It got more real when Leonie took her bra off, even more real when she stripped herself of her underwear. It was hard for Bernadetta to focus when Leonie took her shaft in hand, lifting herself up until Bernadetta’s tip was mere inches away from her hole.

“Oh, Goddess,” Bernadetta stammered, clutching her sheets. “I-I don’t know what to do, this is...I’ve never...”

“It’s alright. Just relax, Bernadetta. I’d never hurt you.”

Bernadetta wasn’t afraid of it hurting. Really, she wasn’t afraid at all. She was filled with so much nervous energy, it’d definitely boil over and kill her if Leonie didn’t do something. Bernadetta shut her eyes when her erection finally came into contact with Leonie’s folds. There was a brief pause before Leonie sank down, sighing to herself as she did so. They fit snugly together; Bernadetta could feel Leonie’s walls giving way to her, just a little bit. The ridges of her walls were coated with her slick, making for an easy entrance.

Bernadetta’s body untensed, just enough for her to lift her hands to Leonie’s thighs and rest them there. It was just like Bernadetta imagined: slow, almost excruciatingly so, and tender. It was admittedly a bit out of character for Leonie to be so gentle, but they could do it her way another time. Bernadetta was enjoying the care Leonie was giving her, the careful way that she lifted and lowered herself atop Bernadetta.

She seemed to be clenching around Bernadetta’s dick, adjusting to the feel of it inside of her. Bernadetta finally opened her eyes once Leonie had settled into a bit of a groove, a rhythmic rolling of her hips. Leonie was biting her bottom lip, but she had the smallest, pleased-looking smile on her face. 

“How’s this, Bernadetta? Good enough for a story?”

Bernadetta had never had the courage to put something like that onto paper, but she was definitely willing to do so after making love with Leonie. There were so many words in her head—beautiful, breathtaking, unforgettable—that she couldn’t hold them all inside, but she was too shy to say them aloud. Maybe she  _ would _ put their time together into a story...

“It’s amazing,” Bernadetta choked out. “So good...”

“I haven’t done this before, either,” Leonie admitted. “Let me know if you want me to do something, alright?”

“Could you kiss me again, maybe?” It was so strange to ask for that, especially knowing that the answer would be yes.

Leonie didn’t answer, actually; she wordlessly leaned over and gave Bernadetta her kiss, still rocking her hips all the while. They moaned into each other’s mouths. Bernadetta was a bit louder, no matter how hard she tried to muffle herself. Bernadetta had never imagined what it’d really feel like to be  _ inside _ of Leonie, inside of anybody. Really, it was a sensation that her mind wasn’t capable of conjuring, nor understanding.

The intimacy behind it was the most perplexing thing. Even after their kiss had broken, Leonie still remained leaning over her. They were so close to one another, sharing their heat and the sounds of their excitement openly. Bernadetta’s heart was pounding. It was impossible for her mind to keep up with how much contact Leonie’s body was making with hers. Their chests were brushing against one another and so were their lips, all while Bernadetta was moving inside of her.

It was overwhelming, but Bernadetta still couldn’t help wanting to pull Leonie closer. She moved her hands from Leonie’s thighs to her waist, a surprising show of confidence. “You okay, Bernadetta?”

“Y-yeah...never knew it’d feel this good,” Bernadetta said.

“Me neither. I’ve thought about it a few times...doing it with you.”

How did Leonie admit things like that with no shame? It was a wonder to Bernadetta. She wished she could be so bold, wished she could say her desires with not a hint of fear in her voice. But she couldn’t—she was far too cowardly. Her brave knight certainly had no problems saying what she felt, though. “Really? You have?”

“Yeah...just like this. Ever since the first day we met in the library,” Leonie said. At that, she sounded only a  _ bit _ bashful. Then again, it might have just been the arousal in her voice. “You were so shy, so cute. I kinda just wanted to take you into my arms, hold you, make you feel good.”

To drive home her point, Leonie took Berndetta’s hand in hers. Bernadetta gasped a bit when Leonie pinned her hand to the bed, the bounce of her hips growing more intense. Bernadetta wanted to respond and tell Leonie how lovely that all sounded, how she wanted Leonie to hold her and make her feel good forever, but she was going speechless. Leonie’s name found its way to her lips, though, over and over again.

Leonie got more vocal herself. The whimpering in her words turned into soft moans, low-pitched and only slightly composed. Bernadetta loved hearing her knight moan like that, still so strong and affectionate despite the inarguable amount of pleasure she was feeling. Bernadetta, on the other hand, knew she didn’t sound half as attractive as Leonie did, even though Leonie only seemed to be spurred on by her cries.

“So good—ah, Bernadetta,” Leonie groaned, her fingers lacing even more tightly with Bernadetta’s. Another kiss came, quicker and sloppier than the others. Her breaths got heavier, more irregular, until Bernadetta realized that Leonie was climaxing. It was beautiful to see her knight trying to stay so stoic and headstrong, but there was something even sweeter in feeling her come undone. Bernadetta had done little more but lay there and let Leonie do as she pleased, moaning all the while, but she still felt such pride swelling in her heart when Leonie’s breath stuttered, when her cunt tightened around Bernadetta’s shaft.

_ I made her feel this good, _ Bernadetta thought—how rewarding it was, to feel Leonie getting hotter and hotter, to watch the sweat drip down her chin. Bernadetta kept watching her, feeling an anxious bubbling in her stomach. No, it wasn’t anxious at all. It was heat,  _ excitement, _ a sensation that she wasn’t used to feeling in a way that was so raw. She’d orgasmed before, of course, but it was nothing compared to the feeling of cumming inside Leonie, she soon discovered.

It was even more addictive to feel Leonie’s walls clamping down on her as they finished together, as if to wring out every drop of cum that Bernadetta had in her. Normally, she hated the feeling of her own seed, almost to the point of disgust, but Leonie had her in a loving grip that didn’t allow her to feel such things.

It wasn’t like fireworks like all the romance novels said, but it was a strong pulse, leaving her reeling after each wave. Leonie thankfully gave her some time to collect herself, slowing her shaking hips to a stop as Bernadetta finished inside of her. That didn’t stop Leonie from squeezing Bernadetta’s hand and kissing her until she was breathless, though.

Leonie was the one who decided when they were finished, giving a long exhale and nearly collapsing on top of Bernadetta. Before she did, though, she said, “Am I too heavy?”

Bernadetta flushed even deeper. Leonie was all muscle, but...it was still a bit much for Bernadetta to fall asleep comfortably. “Um...j-just a little. You don’t have to move, though.”

“Here,” Leonie said, lifting herself a bit. Bernadetta’s shaft slipped out of Leonie, leaving her a bit disillusioned by the warmth of her room, until Leonie snuggled up to her side and pulled Bernadetta’s blanket over the two of them. “Here I thought they’d give the nobles bigger beds...”

It definitely was a tight fit, with the two of them laying in a bed built for one. But Bernadetta couldn’t really complain, and she felt like Leonie couldn’t, either. “It’s nice this way, too. Since we get to be so close.”

Leonie acquiesced, wrapping an arm around Bernadetta’s narrow frame. “I bet they have a full bed in your stories, though.”

_ Oh, Goddess, the stories. No, no, why can’t I make her forget those...? _ “I-I’ve never written anything like this, if I’m being honest. Sure, I’ve thought about it, since everyone has, really, but...”

Leonie tip-tapped her fingers on Bernadetta’s back. Such a small gesture, yet so comforting. “Are you going to write one about this? I won’t be mad if you do. You have to let me read it, though.”

“What?! This is the first time I’ve ever done something like this! I-if I write it now, it’ll turn out bad. So,  _ so _ bad.”

“What you’re saying is, you just need to do it more, right? I’m not good at writing, but I can help you out with that part. Just let me know when you’re ready to go!”

Bernadetta waited for even a hint of a laugh, but Leonie seemed to be completely serious. Bernadetta had to keep that in mind for characterization of her knight, just in case she picked up her stories again: the knight definitely had higher stamina than expected...


End file.
